


Escape (Read Es-Ca-Pay)

by whyamIalwaysLoislane (Whyamialwaysloislane)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Artist Stiles, Escape, Fluff, M/M, Pina Colada's., Pining, Song Lyrics, Writer Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:05:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyamialwaysloislane/pseuds/whyamIalwaysLoislane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is drunk and places a Ad in the paper. He does not expect a reply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape (Read Es-Ca-Pay)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted in so long but I'M BACK!! Expect many a fic soon and one based on my holiday that I went on with Derek as a hella hot life guard...
> 
> So UnBeta'd it should be wrong.

_If you like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain_  
If you're not into yoga, if you have half a brain  
If you like making love at midnight in the dunes of the cape  
Then I'm the love that you've looked for, write to me and escape.

_-Stilinski._

Stiles woke up on Saturday morning with a hangover from hell, a empty bottle of whiskey balancing on his stomach and Scott ass up, face down on the floor next to him. He knocked the whiskey off his belly and peeled himself off his bed slowly, stomach churning at the movement. Scott groaned in his sleep and drooled some more into the carpet. Stumbling onto the carpet, Stiles shuffled his way to the bathroom to throw up and exhume the damage. His eyes where heavily bagged and his lip was split. He poked tentatively at the cut and it stung. He peed, washed his face over with cold water and brushed the lingering taste of ale from his teeth. He trotted downstairs whilst scratching his stomach. 

"Morning son." His dad smiled at him from the table, sipping his coffee and perusing the paper. 

"What have I told you about using big words when I'm hung over?" Stiles groaned, pouring himself a large cup of coffee. 

"Morning is two syllables, kid." He replied, setting the paper flat on the table and sliding it to him. "So is Escape." Stiles sat down and furrowed his brows. His dad tapped the paper. It was open on the Personal Advertisements page and a single Ad had been circled with red sharpie.

"If this is another job, I have one." Stiles sighed, moving to find his glasses. Reading without any glasses plus a hangover was just asking for trouble. A spare pair of his glasses sat on the TV and he slid them up his nose. 

"It isn't, but driving Lydia to work is not a job no matter how much she pays you. However this is not a job." Stiles stared, confused at his dad but looked down at the article. 

As he read last night came flooding back.

_"If You're not into Yoga!" Scott sung badly into his bottle. "If you have half a brain."_

_"That's a decent idea. Dude." Stiles mumbled into his fist. "I should put a Ad out. I like _piña coladas_ ' and I really like getting caught in the rain. I'm gonna send in a AD!" _

Now the Beacon Hills Inquirer was such a shitty paper, that his ad got published the next day signed off with his name. And Address since Stilinski was a rare name and also the name of the towns fucking Sheriff. Stiles groaned and let his head fall dramatically to the table, forgetting for a moment of his head ache. 

 

* * *

 

 

Recovered from his hangover, Stiles went round to visit Lydia and to deposit Scott back at home. Lydia was inspecting her nails as Allison was re-curling the curls in her hair. 

"Scott at home?" Allison asked when Stiles stepped in the room, dumping his rucksack on the floor by his armchair and melting into the leather."

"Yeah. I wouldn't head round yet, he's still a little drunk." Stiles groaned into the chair.

"Boys." Lydia shook her head and chucked her nail polish bag at Stiles. "Since you did such a good job last time boy." 

"What colour?" He routed through for the old favorites. 

"I'll go for..." She looked intently at her naked nails, "Mint." 

"Peppermint or Spearmint?" Stiles asked, holding the two colours in his palm. 

"Stiles? Please? Pepper." He slid to the floor and took her hand. "I swear the best thing I ever did was find out you had a steady hand." Allison snickered.

"Mind out of the gutter, Argent. You didn't have to pull your plastered boyfriend out of the gutter last night." Stiles barked, dragging the brush down Lydia's dainty nail.

"Was he bad?" Allison asked, wincing. 

"I'm more worried about what I did." Stiles ran a hand through his hair, re-dipping the brush into the bottle. 

"We saw your ad." Allison laughed into her fist, putting down the curlers.

"I didn't know you liked Piña Coladas." Lydia Laughed and Stiles dabbed the brush onto her skin and she frowned.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles was washing his jeep, 3 days post Ad. He was wearing a ripped tank top of Scott's that he'd out grown, The only reason it was ripped is that he tried to fit it over his rippling abs, and a pair of joggers. He was in prime moping mode. He scrubbed the surface of the bonnet. 

"STILES!" Scott screeched as he wheeled onto the drive. 

"What?!" Stiles pointed the hose at Scott who squealed loudly and stopped. 

"Stiles. Someone answered your Ad." Scott pulled a paper out of his bag and waved the Beacon Hills Inquirer in his face.

"WHAT!?" He dropped the hose and grabbed the paper. 

 _Yes, I like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain_  
I'm not much into health food, I am into champagne  
I've got to meet you by tomorrow noon and cut through all this red tape  
At a bar called O'Malley's where we'll plan our escape.

There was no name but the intent was clear. Stiles didn't know whether to throw up or jump up and down. 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles was standing in O'Malley's. Lydia had dressed him, torn blue skinny jeans, black long sleeved Henley and purple hoodie. He was holding the reply cut out in one hand and a beer in the other. He looked about eighteen, the beer in his hand proving his being actually drinking age. 

"Excuse me?" Someone tapped his shoulder and he moved out of the way, turning a little to face the stranger. 

It was no stranger. Derek Hale stood beside him. Damn Derek had filled out well. He'd always been muscular in High School but he'd hidden it behind cardigans and baggy jumpers with thumb holes. It's not like Stiles committed Derek's limited wardrobe to memory or anything. But this Derek looked so different, grey Henley under leather jacket on beaten black denim. It was a delicious look on him.

"Stiles?" Derek asked, smiling a little and Stiles' jaw dropped.

"You know my name?" 

"Of course I know your name Stiles." Derek laughed, picking up his beer off the side and touching Stiles' elbow slightly. "Want to get a booth?"

"Yes." Stiles mumbled over himself and almost tripped into the booth. "How have you been?" 

"I've been good, I'm a writer for the Beacon Hills Inquirer on and off." He had stubble dotting his chin and as always his eyes where stunning up close. "How about you?"

"I draw. It's not good money, so I'm a chauffeur for Lydia Martin, plus assistant and whatever she feels like paying me for." Stiles laughed, taking a sip of his beer.

"How old are you know?" Derek smiled. His front teeth indented his bottom lip as he smiled.

"I am twenty three so that much make you..." 

"Twenty Nine." 

"Thirty soon."

"Ugh. Don't remind me, Laura wont let me live it down, even though she's two years older than me." He laughed.

"How is Laura?" Stiles asked, finishing off his beer. He didn't realise how much he'd drank in the short time.

"Editor in Chief in New York, Married with a kid on the way and a House husband who dotes on her every word. She's pretty good." He laughed.

"And you're still here."

"Someone has to make sure Cora doesn't get into trouble. She's at the Berkeley, she has a football scholarship." Derek drained his beer and smiled.

"She was always good in high school, she beat the shit out of me on multiple occasions." 

"That's her way of showing affection." He grinned, looking down at their empty beers. "Do you want another drink?"

"Go on then, if you're paying." Stiles winked and Derek got up. Stiles had almost forgot why he was here. His Ad. His Escape. His eyes scanned the bar for anyone that caught his eye for watching other people. He spotted Derek returning with two cocktail glasses. He placed it in front of Stiles and grinned. Stiles returned the smile and took a sip of his drink. 

It tasted like coconut and alcohol. 

It was a Piña Colada. 

"This is a Piña Colada." Stiles stated.

"Well done." Derek nodded, nervously spinning the liquid in his glass. The smile was on Stiles' face before he realized it.

"So tell me Derek, Do you like rain?" Stiles took another gulp.

"Love it. Especially getting caught in it." Derek smiled into his drink.

"Do you want to Escape?" Stiles asked, smile slipping to a softer little grin.

"So much." He said softly into his drink, eyes looking up meet to Stiles eyes. 

"Will you escape with me?" Stiles asked, hand open on the table. Derek looked straight at Stiles, eyes boring into his soul. He nodded and Stiles grinned. Derek slipped his hand into Stiles'. 

 

 

**Two Years Later.**

 

"Your Drink, sir." The waiter's accent hung in the air and brought Stiles' attention from his day dream. He smiled at the man, his name was Jordain or Felix, something pretentious. Stiles took his drink off him and sipped it. 

"Will you get Derek one too. I know he doesn't drink during work hours but if it's this, he'll take it." Stiles rolled his shoulders and placed his drink on the side. He picked his brush back up and got back to work. 

A few minutes later and a warm body was pressed to his back. 

"Piña Coladas?" The words held promise. 

"You betcha baby." He turned and kissed Derek hard and quick. His hands fisting in balls, clutching his shirt. "How's the book going?"

"I'm having trouble with inspiration." Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles' cheek. 

"Want some help?"

"Always." Derek's eyes glint with wickedness. Stiles clutched Derek's face and pulled his lips to his, dropping his brushes. His painting could wait, he needed his escape.

**Author's Note:**

> You should hit me up on [TUMBLR](http://gildasbitch.tumblr.com/)  
> Song Is [Escape (The Piña Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fsj2wdFDmLk/)  
> 


End file.
